


Prelude

by legendofthesevenstars



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Identity, Original Character(s), Personal Growth, Politics, Post-Canon, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars
Summary: Left to rule Asturia as the new regent, Third Princess Millerna Aston journeys to find her purpose in a broken postwar Gaea. Inspired by her experiences as a doctor to her people, a friend to Allen and Celena, and a confidant to the rulers of Freid and Fanelia, she blossoms in a new role she makes uniquely hers.





	Prelude

The war was over. Peace returned to Gaea, and Hitomi returned home. But Asturia had not escaped unscathed. Unlike the ruins of Van’s Fanelia, most of the country and capital were still intact. Still, Zaibach’s mayhem had wrecked large sections of Palas, and the cathedral housed many homeless refugees.

After Allen returned home to look after his sister, the men who had served under him stayed in Palas to help rebuild and attend to refugees. The King had not ordered them to rebuild Fort Castelo; though he was no longer bedbound, he had not yet fully recovered. Neither had Dryden, since he’d stepped down from the position of regent, leaving Millerna and Eries to rule.

Millerna had been preparing for this her whole life. Until now, most of the burdens of ruling had fallen on Eries. Eries had never accepted a marriage offer, nor had she ever announced or even hinted any intentions of abdicating. Yet the line of succession officially fell to Millerna, who had accepted her arranged marriage and allowed her new husband to lead. Dryden was capable and intelligent, but he’d grown weary of the political game, leaving Millerna to make decisions on behalf of the country. If Father died, she’d be the Queen. She’d been preparing for it her whole life, but she definitely wasn’t ready for it.

She had watched her father betray her country and allow Zaibach to invade. She’d discovered that the man she’d idolized for his devotion to Asturia and adherence to chivalry had broken his order’s code by fathering a child out of wedlock. She’d stood by Dryden’s decision to shelter Hitomi and Folken against the advice of the council. She understood now that leading meant making hard decisions, and that often, those in power made the wrong decisions. She would have to accept that just as she’d been wrong about Father, Allen, and Dryden, she would sometimes be wrong about what was best for Asturia.

From an early age, Millerna had understood that she would have to make sacrifices for her country’s benefit, including getting married and producing an heir. She’d understood that ensuring Asturia had a future took priority over her own happiness and desires. She had understood all of that, but, like her sisters, she’d resisted it. Allen was less a man she had actually loved and more a symbol of everything she wanted but couldn’t have. Marlene and Allen’s love hadn’t been an act of rebellion, yet what Marlene had said in her diary about resenting the circumstances of her birth resonated with Millerna, almost too strongly. Her obligation to the throne held her back from all that she wanted, even if she didn’t know exactly what she wanted, because she could never truly understand a life beyond the one her birthright had bestowed on her.

She shouldn’t long for that unknown life, that taste of freedom, anymore. She was growing older and needed to confront her responsibilities, and that meant giving up her struggle. Just as Marlene had left her dreams behind, she would have to do the same.

Before Allen had left for the battlefield, she’d told him that she’d wanted someone to make her happy, and that she’d realized how wrong that was. She didn’t need some _one_. She didn’t need Allen or Dryden. What she needed was some _thing_. Something to give her a purpose.

Looking out the window at the Mystic Moon, she couldn’t help but think of the first girl who didn’t see her for her title, who’d thought of nothing but her happiness. The first girl beyond her sisters she’d ever really known, who’d seen her as just another girl, as her friend. What would Hitomi tell her to do? Would she encourage her to pursue her own freedom and dreams if it meant being happy? Or could she really be fulfilled as the Queen of Asturia?

She could no longer ask Hitomi for guidance. She couldn’t ask Marlene what she had been thinking or what she’d wanted. She would have to talk to Eries, and though she trusted her sister’s wisdom, she feared she might be forced into something she didn’t want. Still, she’d stand up for herself like always. Though she didn’t know where it would take her, she already had a plan.

—

“I have a question,” Millerna said after the maid had set their teacups on the table.

Eries’ cold blue eyes met hers. “Go on.”

“Which areas of Palas are in greatest need of help? I know that the majority of the destroyed structures are near the square, but I’ve also heard that some houses on the outskirts sustained damage.”

Eries tapped her teacup with her filed nails. “Allen’s crew, as well as two Knights who serve in the capital, have been attending to the rebuilding effort. Clergy and doctors are caring for the sick and disabled in the cathedral. Those living in the country are most likely receiving less assistance than those who have the means to travel to the capital or were already living there. Additionally, a large portion of Rampant was destroyed on the tail end of the war, and while there’s a community rebuilding effort, only one Knight survived the attack.”

“So our Knights and clergy are unevenly distributed. Are there clergy attending to the people in the countryside?”

“I’ve considered deploying two Knights, in addition to soldiers and clergy, to these locations.” She folded her hands on the table. “However, I leave the choice to you, Millerna. You’re asking because you want to leave the capital, don’t you?”

Before Millerna could reply, she continued, “Not only does this pose an opportunity for you to gain the support and trust of the masses, you would also be able to help them. I know that humanitarian gestures are important to you. If this is how you wish to differentiate yourself from Father, then you should go.”

Millerna raised her eyebrows. “Are you certain?”

“Considering Father’s health, it may be best for you to remain in Asturia for the time being. However, I can no longer tell you what to do. You are an adult now, Millerna, and these are your first days as a ruler. Now is the best time for you to decide the face you show the people of Asturia.”

Father had never wanted the people to see them as their equals. But when she’d traveled with Allen and his men, wealth and position had mattered little. Everyone had come from different backgrounds. From a common beastgirl like Merle, to middle-class mercenaries like Gaddes and Reeden, to a rich merchant like Dryden, to the King of Fanelia and even a girl from the Mystic Moon, nobody aboard that leviship had experienced the same things as anybody else. They’d worked together to help people during the first rebuilding efforts. And where had Eries and Father been? Shut up inside the castle? She didn’t want to be an impersonal ruler. She wanted to help the people, and the country, she loved.

Before the wedding, the Moleman had told her she’d used to have a glow about her. She was beginning to think he had been onto something, and she was also thankful he’d encouraged her to use her skills to save Allen. She didn’t have to just sit on a throne and do nothing, or look at charts and talk politics. What she really wanted was to get involved.

“My goal hasn’t changed,” she said, standing up and placing her hands flat on the table. “I want to help people. I want to extend a hand to everyone and show them that we’re the same. I know that I was born into this position, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. So the best I can do is use it to help people, and I’m going to do it the best way I know how.”

“You may endanger your health. And you won’t be able to save everyone.”

“I know I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”

“If you are absolutely certain this is what you want…” Eries paused for a moment, hesitating, then continued, “…then please travel with a personal guard, and mind your own health. It was unacceptable for you to run away in the first place, but leaving the capital with no one to defend you worries me as much, if not more, as it worries your father.” She sighed. “I only advise you for your own welfare. Because your safety and Asturia’s go hand in hand.”

“I know.” Millerna glared at Eries defiantly. “But this is my decision. I don’t need you or Father or anyone to tell me what to do.” She was determined to find her own way to support and foster the growth of her country.

“I’ve accepted that,” Eries admitted. “I’d thought I could change you, but I know I was wrong. Still, you can’t stop me worrying.”

“I can do it.” Millerna eased her glare, smiling slightly. “I promise.”

—

Shedding her dresses for more practical tights and tunics, Millerna picked up the old blue bag and rode the carriage out to the country, accompanied by her guard. In the country cathedral, she learned the names and locations of families who needed help, and locals led her to homes where she examined and attended to the residents. She did not hide her identity and introduced herself by name and position. Some confessed that despite living on the outskirts of Palas, they’d seen neither a doctor nor Asturian royalty before, let alone the Third Princess who was both.

Most people in the country were in relatively good health, and most of their problems were minor. An aching jaw meant she might need to remove a rotting tooth; an old man with stiff joints might just need a bit of cream and bedrest. Children flushed red with rashes and fevers needed fresh air and medicine, and to be kept away from family members who had not been exposed to the disease. The rash-fever epidemic that had swept the capital last year had gone uncured in the countryside; the disease the clergy called “scarlet fever” could easily kill any child who did not receive proper treatment.

While the war was raging, nobody had given a second thought to the people in the countryside still ravaged by the epidemic. It had essentially remained invisible, and neither Father nor the clergy had done anything to combat it. When she encouraged the country clergy to correspond more frequently with those in the capital, one priest explained that with no Knight or consistent mail service, getting in touch with the city clergy was difficult. She resolved to appoint one of the remaining two Knights to the cathedral upon her return, and ask the cabinet member responsible for communications to show her the current mail routes.

Millerna was relieved when, after a month, she received no more reports of scarlet fever. Dealing with the disease had been distressing. Children who wanted to play with each other were stuck bedbound until they were no longer contagious, and sometimes, even after administering the usual list of treatments, she could not save a child’s life. Though it pained her, she attended two small country funerals, and apologized to the families. They were nothing but gracious and kind to her, even in their grief.

Word spread that most of her treatments had gone well and that she had helped the clergy eradicate the disease. The country people started requesting appointments, and they addressed her by name. She became familiar with some families, talking to the parents and playing with the children. Because of her popularity, and the experience she was gaining, the clergy started sending her out on tougher cases. The toughest of all was a midwife who needed assistance with a delivery. Though the birth had gone well, it had been her most stressful call so far, and she was about to take a break when she got a call from the Schezar estate.

Celena Schezar had been brought back alive after ten years. Miraculous as it seemed, she had not escaped from Zaibach unscathed. Folken had told them that Celena had been subject to a Fate Alteration experiment that had transformed her into Dilandau against her will. She had lost her childhood and most of her teenage years to the Empire, and readjusting to life in Asturia after that would likely prove difficult.

Allen’s scribbled note described his sister as “locked tight,” saying he couldn’t “get through to her.” Though there were plenty of books on medicine and anatomy, Millerna had little experience with, let alone knowledge of, mental health. Allen hadn’t provided any details, so Millerna had no idea why Celena was “locked tight.” She had no idea what she would have to do to help, or if she would even be able to help. Her guard reassured her that treating the sister of a Knight Caeli was a prestigious assignment. She had no concern for prestige; she was only worried for the girl’s welfare. She hadn’t met her before, but she was still Allen’s sister.

She knocked on the door and waited for Allen’s reply. He opened the door just a crack, peeking around the corner. The dark circles under his eyes were deeper than the last time she’d seen him. Though just a few months had passed, it seemed he’d aged another year.

He beckoned her in, and she turned around, getting a better view of him. His hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, bangs brushing his collarbones, which were exposed by his open shirt. Though his blue eyes were just as sincere and sad as they’d always been, nothing stirred in her stomach when she met his gaze, no goosebumps prickled her arms when he offered a faint smile.

“I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Princess,” he said. Lowering his voice, he continued, “I’ve tried my hardest to talk to her, but she’s just not opening up.”

“Not even to her brother?” Millerna handed her bag to the maid who stood waiting behind her.

Allen blinked and shook his head. “I’m so exhausted that I’m forgetting my manners. Please, come in.”

He led her down the hallway and through an anteroom to the parlor, where he sat down in an armchair and she sat on the sofa.

“She’s resting at the moment,” he explained. “She wanted to take a nap before you arrived. I sent the butler to wake her up.”

“What do you believe is wrong with her?”

“She’s having trouble paying attention to her lessons. She’s always wandering the backyard. Drawing or playing with her fingernails. She seems to be locked in her own mind, and there’s no way to get her out. She’s still physically here, but it seems like her mind really is somewhere else.

“I believe that the nightmares are to blame. That she would be able to pay attention were she not so possessed by recollections of her life in Zaibach. I’ve told her that it will be better for her to start over and make a life for herself as a noblewoman, which is the purpose of her social and intellectual education, but she doesn’t seem at all receptive to it.”

Millerna folded her arms. That Celena wasn’t receptive to the idea of becoming a noblewoman somehow didn’t seem surprising. But it was concerning that she wasn’t totally present. Her behavior called to mind what returning soldiers had experienced after the war: a lack of purpose, being plagued by nightmares, and a desire to live outside society.

“Has she attempted talking to you about her time in Zaibach?”

Allen furrowed his brow. “Are you kidding me?!” he spat. “That’s the one thing I don’t want to bring up! Her time as a soldier is the cause of her nightmares. That’s why I want to encourage her to move on, because it’s hurting her so deeply.”

Millerna frowned. It was just like Allen to say something like that. He’d hidden everything: the tragedy of Marlene and Chid, and the tragedies of his sister and father. When Dryden had forced him to confront his past, all the hurt that had festered in him for years had surfaced, and she’d seen him at his rawest. The longer he’d hidden it, the more it had eaten away at his heart.

“Allen”—he flinched when she said his name—“don’t you realize that’s only making it worse? She needs to talk about it. Otherwise she’ll become bitter and depressed, just like you were. That’s why she doesn’t talk. Because she doesn’t think you _want_ to talk.”

“Not about all of _that_!” he shouted, but as soon as he had, regret flashed across his face. He clutched the seat of the sofa tightly, averting his eyes. “No…” He shook his head. “I can’t force her to confront her pain. How can I force my sister to suffer?”

“She’s suffering in silence because you aren’t listening!”

“Of course I listen!” He had nearly interrupted her. “I comfort her after her nightmares. I listen to her when she tells me why she doesn’t enjoy her lessons. I…”

“You’re not listening like _Hitomi_ would.”

He frowned. “Princess Millerna—” He made a noise of exasperation. “Don’t bring Hitomi into this. She has nothing to do with it.”

“Wouldn’t Hitomi comfort her? Wouldn’t she listen to all her problems, even if she isn’t her sister? Hitomi would want to help her. Don’t you want to be like Hitomi?” Before Allen could respond, Millerna said, “I do. I want to listen to Celena. I don’t care if talking about the war hurts for me. Because I know it hurts even more for someone like her.

“The people who die on the battlefield aren’t the only casualties of war. A war’s effects span well beyond its battles. Celena is a casualty of Zaibach’s plans. She needs someone to bring her back to life. She needs closure.” Just like the people Millerna had helped in the countryside.

“It doesn’t matter how long she spent as Dilandau, or what she did,” Millerna continued. “What matters is that she wants to talk to you. That she’s tried to open up, and you must have made her feel unsafe doing so. She needs you to listen to her.”

Silence fell between them. Allen turned away, sighing through his nose. Then faced Millerna again.

“I wanted to help her. I wanted to make her feel comfortable. But I was at my wit’s end. No matter how much I tried, she seemed inconsolable. So if you believe it’ll be the best thing to do…” He smiled sadly, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ve tried being open with her. I’ve told her about… Marlene, and Chid, and Father. But you’re right. I haven’t offered her the same. And I was wrong.”

“You aren’t ready,” Millerna said.

Allen shook his head.

“Maybe Celena wasn’t, either, or maybe she picked up on that. But I am. So? Will you let me at least try to get through to her?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I didn’t believe you could.”

—

Upstairs, Celena had just finished her lunch. The butler came in and took the tray away just after Millerna entered. She sat down in the chair next to Celena’s bedside, folding her hands tightly in her lap.

“You’re the doctor?” She was tall and limber like Allen. Though her wavy, pale blonde hair differed in texture and color, she had the same hairline and nose as her brother, and the same sad, kind blue eyes.

“Millerna Aston, Third Princess and Regent of Asturia.” She bowed her head slightly.

Celena’s eyes widened. “Princess? And a doctor? You can do both?”

“That’s what I’d like to believe.”

“So do you think I can be both a noblewoman and a swordsman?”

“You want to fight?”

“It feels like something I should be doing. But I don’t really have anything to fight for now that the war’s over.” She shrugged. “I’m doing all this noblewoman stuff. Learning how to sit properly and curtsy and all the boring things proper noblewomen do. I should be happy. I know I should be, because…” She looked at her feet, wiggling her toes underneath the bedsheets. “Because I’m home and I’m supposed to be happy about that. But it’s all so boring, especially when my brother doesn’t ever want to talk about what happened to me.”

Millerna’s heart plummeted into her stomach. She’d been right.

“Allen told me you’ve been having nightmares,” she ventured.

“It’s always the same stuff. Strapped to a table with people in dark robes and a needle. All alone with nobody to keep me company or protect me. Getting all hot because everything’s on fire. Sometimes I have a sword, or I’m stomping around in a Guymelef. It’s more confusing than anything. I can’t understand most of it. But when I ask my brother, he just shuts me down.”

“I see. Are you feeling well otherwise? No issues with your body?”

“Well…” She continued to stare at the sheets. “Once a month, I’m in terrible pain, and I have a fever and nausea. Then I start bleeding and I wear rags between my legs for a week. But the maid tells me that’s normal.”

“Does this happen at roughly the same time each month?”

“I guess so.”

“Then it is normal, as long as you’re not in too much pain or distress.”

“Well, I’d like to be rid of it altogether,” she mumbled. “But I didn’t say anything about that to Allen, because he probably still expects me to get married and have children.”

“Is this something you’ve discussed with him at all?”

“It’s in all my lessons, so I know it’s what he wants. I’m supposed to ‘carry on the family line.’ All because he thinks he won’t ever find anyone he loves again.” She waved her hand. “Whatever. I don’t care about getting married.”

“Well, what do you care about? Is there something you enjoy?”

“I like painting. I like collecting rocks. I like looking at Allen’s swords, even though he won’t let me pick any of them up. I want to fight again, but to tell the truth, I’m scared of what might happen if I pick a sword up.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“Well, Allen seems to think I’m going to turn back into— _him_ ”—she’d hesitated before saying it—“if I so much as even _touch_ a sword. So I probably won’t find out anyway.”

“You should tell Allen what you want. He told me he’s willing to listen, and he’ll no longer shut you down.”

Celena looked at her, pulling the blanket over her knees. “But what if he does?”

“Keep talking. Make him listen.” She folded her arms. “Many older people, especially your siblings, will tell you that they know what is best for you. But you are the only one who understands that. You need the time and space to figure out who you are, and talking to Allen about your nightmares and your life during the war might help you with that.”

“You think I’ll find a purpose just by talking about all that stuff?”

“Not just by talking. But everyone has to take the first step, don’t they?” She smiled at Celena.

—

Though she felt compelled to stay and help Celena, Millerna knew it would be a selfish move to stay any longer than she needed. She hadn’t returned to the capital in over a month, and she knew Eries would be worried. When she returned, Eries informed her that a message had arrived from Freid.

Though the alliance had been disbanded following the war, Duke Chid Freid wrote to request a reinstatement of the alliance between Asturia and Freid, due to his mother’s heritage and Asturia’s assistance during the war. He was interested in establishing trade agreements and other diplomatic arrangements. The country was in the middle of its own rebuilding efforts following the loss of many lives in the war months earlier. Though he had advisors, Chid was essentially on his own, and he was barely six. Millerna knew he needed more help, and Eries agreed, so she allowed Millerna to visit Freid.

The remainders of the monks were happy to receive her, bowing and kneeling when she disembarked the leviship. Another middle-aged man had replaced Voris as the Duke’s primary advisor, and he showed her to the palace and the audience chamber. Freid had been one of the first countries to agree to the international peace treaty. Asturia and Zaibach, the two architects of the treaty, had chosen to leave trade and other negotiations up to individual countries, hence why Freid had contacted Asturia. The advisor informed her that Fanelia was also interested in establishing agreements. Freid and Fanelia were hoping for Asturia’s cooperation so that they could work out shares of the profits, tariffs, roads and infrastructure, and other details.

After he formally received Millerna, Chid sought a private meeting with her. She found him in the room where Allen had stayed while recovering, standing on a stepstool looking out the window. With his helmet off, she saw the little cowlick at the back of his scalp before he turned around, and she thought of the green-eyed girl he’d asked to read his fortune.

“Aunt Millerna, I’m so happy you accepted my request,” he said, turning around with a smile. The sunlight poured in through the window, illuminating his cherubic face and bright blue eyes. “And I’m very grateful you could spare the time to talk to me.”

“And I’m glad to see you again, too.” She took a seat across from him. “You’ve already talked to Van?”

He nodded eagerly. “Fanelia was a willing partner. We’re just seeking your cooperation, of course. And then…” His brow knit slightly. “We can try reaching out to Zaibach.”

Millerna hesitated slightly. He didn’t exactly seem eager about the idea, but why should he? She was impressed that he was willing to forgive Zaibach, since Freid was just as devastated as Palas had been. The international council couldn’t even agree on the amount of damages Zaibach should pay, or even if it should pay any damages.

“Are you certain?” she said softly.

“It was King Van’s idea.”

She gasped. “ _Van’s_ idea?” Fanelia had been burnt to the ground—completely destroyed—by Zaibach. And considering how much he’d hated Dilandau, she was shocked Van would have even suggested forgiveness, much less considered it. “Do you know what made him change his mind?”

“He wants peace. He doesn’t want to see any more fighting. Neither do I, after what they did to my country.” Chid lowered his head, frowning. “Because of the war, I lost Father. I wasn’t even able to fight to protect him, because I was too young and weak. And I’m still young and weak.” His expression tensed slightly, and he clenched his hands into fists; her heart twinged at how much his frustration looked like Allen’s anger. “Making Zaibach pay won’t solve anything. And I can’t afford to strike back when we’re still rebuilding.”

Millerna set her hand on his shoulder. He looked away, his eyes beginning to shimmer. “I don’t think Zaibach can afford to strike back either, but working together is still the best idea for our respective nations. We need to establish an alliance with Fanelia. Fanelia’s going to be busy rebuilding, just like Freid. And Asturia’s barely started its own efforts. It’ll be far easier if we rely on each other.”

He sniffled. She removed her hand from his shoulder, and he met her eyes again. “I proposed unification to Van, but he says he still needs to think about it.”

“Unification?” she echoed.

He nodded. “I know it’s not often done, but Freid needs all the help and support it can get.”

“I’m sure Van has his reasons, but you need help now,” she said. “Maybe the first step is unifying with Asturia.”

Chid’s eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly as the corners of his lips turned up. “Really?”

“Of course. You need protection while you’re rebuilding. Zaibach may have already taken the Sword of Atlantis, but if they’re still planning on war, they wouldn’t care if it’s gone.”

He frowned slightly. “But what would we have to offer you?”

“There is so much that Freid has to offer. Knowing how happy your mother was here, I have to believe that.” She bowed her head. “You have strong warriors and devoted followers. A hot, dry climate where you can grow the crops we can’t. If nothing else, you can offer us your kindness and your conviction.”

While Chid’s brow was furrowed in thought, she recalled the temple where they’d heard the story of the Atlanteans. They’d had wings, just like the Draconians. What if the Freidian people knew that Van was a Draconian? Where they were shunned in Asturia and Fanelia, a Draconian might be a symbol of hope and progress for the Freidians. So far, she could see only benefits in their three countries coming together—if not to unify, at least to join hands in alliance.

“Besides,” she continued, lowering her voice, “though you’ve shouldered it incredibly well for your age, leading a country is a heavy burden. I never expected I’d become a ruler, even if I’d been preparing for it my whole life. No amount of preparation could ready me for any of this. And your challenge is even greater than mine.”

“It may be difficult…” Chid trailed off, closing his eyes. As he opened them, he blinked back the tears. “I made a promise to Father and my country. I promised I would lead Freid into a new age of peace. I can’t back down now.”

“But you won’t have to do it alone.” Millerna cupped his cheek, and he lifted his head to look at her. “Until you’re grown, I, and Aunt Eries, will be right behind you.” Maybe even Van, too.

“Aunt Millerna…” He threw his arms around her, and she collapsed to her knees to return his embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered into her shoulder.

“It won’t happen overnight,” she said when he let go. “I’ll have to talk to the council. It might be a long process. You should talk to your people as well. If they decide this is truly what they want, and we decide this is what we want…”

“We can do it together,” Chid finished, pumping his fist eagerly.

He tensed with anger like Allen, but shone with happiness like Marlene.

—

It was as difficult as she’d expected to convince the Asturian council to unite with Freid. Concerns over geographical distance and what natural and military resources Freid could offer dominated the conversation. However, with enough discussion, and appealing to the fact that the current leader of Freid was the son of the late First Princess, negotiations were beginning to move forward, and members of her cabinet were exchanging letters with the Duke and his advisor.

Negotiations with Fanelia were also progressing well. Van eagerly accepted Asturia’s offer of solidarity. Rebuilding was going slowly, since Zaibach had reduced the country to ruins. Millerna was still amazed that Van had apparently decided to extend forgiveness toward Zaibach. On that front, the international council had hesitated significantly. She couldn’t blame them.

Zaibach’s military had laid Fanelia and Freid to waste, burned Fort Castelo, and destroyed large portions of Palas and Rampant, and Dilandau alone was likely responsible for countless instances of devastation. Not to mention the lasting psychic trauma Zaibach had left on the people whose countries it had wrecked, and the subjects of its scientists’ experiments. Celena likely wasn’t the only one who had survived such strife.

Yet, according to Chid, Van wanted _peace_. He wanted to see the end of the fighting. He’d been an eager fighter, almost too eager, and bloodthirsty at worst. But after he’d killed all those soldiers on the plains, he’d gone into that odd catatonic state, and come out listless and fatigued. In the days following, he’d skulked through the halls of the _Crusade_ with empty eyes, his hands trembling at his sides. Despite that violent streak, Hitomi had always believed in him. She’d wrung her hands and fretted over him. Millerna had been worried back then, too, more on Hitomi’s behalf than anything, even if she’d been jealous of her because of Allen.

But she’d been wrong to be jealous of her and Allen. When she hadn’t been able to revive Hitomi in the prison, when there was nothing she could do to heal Van’s wounds, they had kept each other alive. Van was special to Hitomi, and he must feel the same way about her. Even if Van hated the fighting, he still hated Zaibach, and that hatred could be the root of his bloodlust. But Hitomi didn’t have any special reason to hate Zaibach. Before she’d returned to the Mystic Moon the first time, she’d screamed that she’d hated the fighting, and hated how Van enjoyed it. That might just have been the beginning of the end for Van’s grudge.

Hitomi could change anyone’s mind. Open people to new possibilities, make them think in ways they hadn’t before. It wasn’t just because she was from the Mystic Moon. It was her kindness and selflessness, her empathy and willingness to listen. Millerna had always trusted her advice, even before she understood Allen and Dryden fully, before she understood the world fully. Van was probably looking to her as a guide as well. Her mark was indelible on the lives of everyone who had known her.

Setting aside official correspondence for a moment, she penned a personal letter to Van to confirm whether her suspicion was correct. His response arrived a few weeks later:

_Millerna,_

_You’d be right that my opinion on Zaibach has been changed by my personal experience. In the final battle, I was ready to kill Dilandau, for the pain that he’d caused all of Gaea. Zaibach destroyed my entire country, convinced my brother their cause was worthwhile. They killed the Duke of Freid and left his country in ruins. Then Allen stepped between me and Dilandau, and told me Dilandau wasn’t really Dilandau. That he was his sister._

_I didn’t believe him, of course. I thought he’d lost his mind. I wasn’t just_ ready _to kill Dilandau, I was_ hellbent _on killing him. If I couldn’t get to him, I’d just end Allen’s life instead. Then… well, it’s kind of hard to explain, and I don’t want to share all the details, but I heard Hitomi’s voice. She stopped me._

 _I’m glad she did. I didn’t_ want _to kill Allen. I can’t imagine how I would have felt if I did. Even now, it’s hard to live with everything I did during the war. What did I suffer for? Why did I have to suffer like I did? I don’t want to say the struggle was in vain, but I don’t want to say it was worth it, either. Either way, it feels wrong. And I don’t think Hitomi would like it if I said it had been worth it._

_Hitomi changed my life, too. It’s tough to say just how much. I think she’d want me to show forgiveness to the people of Zaibach. I know that many people like my brother and Allen’s sister just got caught up in what Emperor Dornkirk was trying to do. They were casualties of his plan. The war wasn’t all there was to Zaibach. I was there, sure, but what did I see? I saw the capital and the man responsible for Gaea’s suffering. That was it. So your thoughts of going to Zaibach aren’t “out of nowhere.” It’s a good idea. I honestly don’t think it would hurt to try and get to know its people._

_I like the Freid idea. If my heritage can benefit our alliance, I’m more eager to enter an agreement with them, even if I don’t believe unification is the best route. I share your worries about ~~Prince~~ Duke Chid. He’s far braver than I was at his age, braver than I am now, but he can’t do it alone. Our countries are currently too fragile for unification. That aside, I have a duty to the people of Fanelia, so I’m hesitant to rely on others. Hitomi would encourage me to accept your offers of help, so I will remain open-minded to the prospect of future unification between Freid and Fanelia, Fanelia and Asturia, or even all three._

_Thank you for the personal correspondence. I’ve been keeping in touch with Allen, but it’s nice to hear from someone else who understands everything we went through. Coincidence—some might say fate—brought all of us together, but it seems like we two never did get much of a chance to talk. I guess I’ll have to get used to it, since I’m one of the leaders of our new Gaea. I don’t really mind, since I know you and Chid already, and I can trust the two of you. But with everybody else, knowing the chaos I saw on that battlefield after Zaibach was eliminated, we have to keep our eyes open._

_By the way, Merle says hi. Hitomi, too._

_Van_

Hitomi, too? How did he know that? Maybe he was joking. Or maybe he had somehow talked to her again.

Regardless of that odd last statement, she felt reassured that unification wasn’t a strange idea after all. Neither was offering Zaibach forgiveness. On the maps of Gaea she’d taken to studying, Zaibach covered a lot of ground, even before its recent expansion in the previous war when it had captured some territory in a neighboring nation. There were so many people in Zaibach who’d had nothing to do with the Empire’s war. It was the leaders and politicians in the Empire who’d made the decision to go to war, not the people.

Van had mentioned a duty to his people. Chid believed in the same, and after all the people she’d helped in her brief tour of the countryside, Millerna was beginning to believe in that same duty for herself. Was it beyond her duty to extend that same help to the people of Zaibach? At the least, she could start by reading books in the library. She needed to understand the Zaibach beyond the Empire.

—

Books on Zaibach history and culture were few, even in the royal and national libraries. She spoke to a scholar who informed her that after the Empire’s rise to power, certain perspectives on history had been suppressed, and therefore, most modern histories were state propaganda. The few books that had survived, musty with age, made no mention of Dornkirk or any technological advancement.

The Zaibach of the past had been a barren, dry land with hot summers and cold winters. Its people had been peasant farmers, mainly humans, who lived in strife year-round, struggling to make a living. Zaibach’s culture had been sparsely documented. Farmers had sung while building stone houses and tilling barren land. Children had played in the sand of the plains, though the sand was too dry and the wind too harsh to sculpt anything. Though most clothes had been sewn from plain burlap sacks imported from other countries, a spare lizard or armadillo might have been poached and turned into a leather satchel or belt.

Harsh winters and summers, and springs that often failed to bear fruit, had driven the Zaibachers into their neighboring countries to pilfer and steal. Thus, they had garnered a poor reputation among those neighbors, especially richly-forested Basram. The Basrami military had preyed on the Zaibachers. With no materials to build weapons, few allies with whom to trade to obtain materials, and no formal military training, the Zaibachers had been powerless to fend off any assaults, and Basrami forces occupied Zaibachian villages along the border, slowly moving inward with the intent to conquer the entire country.

With the arrival of Dornkirk, chronicled in one of the newer propaganda books she’d borrowed from the scholar, technology modernized Zaibach, and a military empire was built. No longer would the people toil endlessly with no reward, and no longer would the Basrami forces occupy the border towns. The Empire conscripted its citizens for the military and invaded its neighboring countries, including Basram. The military brought purpose to the lives of Zaibachers, and as it accumulated prowess, it accumulated money. In that way, the Zaibach Empire had risen to power.

Recalling the scholar’s warning about the modern histories, Millerna doubted the flourishing capital told the whole story of the Zaibach Empire. While the grass was still green outside Palas, did grass grow in the barren outskirts of the Zaibach capital? Were peasants—people—suffering there, just like in the Asturian countryside? She wanted to find out, but she doubted Eries would allow her to travel to Zaibach. Either she’d have to sneak out under her nose, or she’d really have to convince her.

Then she had a fantastic idea. Why not invite Celena? Though Allen had been reluctant to let her talk about her memories of her time as Dilandau, she’d been eager to confront those memories. Even if they weren’t in the capital, accompanying Millerna on her trip might help her understand those emotions. Millerna, for one, felt that if she went to Zaibach, she’d finally be able to dispel her own lingering doubts. If she wanted to be a ruler of the people—not in the same exact same way as Van and Chid, but on her own terms, as Third Princess, as an Asturian, as a woman, and as herself—she would have to make the journey she’d been subconsciously considering ever since her conversation with Celena.

First, she’d have to convince Allen. She sent a quick note asking permission to visit, and he approved. Celena had been improving. During the weeks she’d spent in negotiations with Freid and Fanelia, Celena had broken through to Allen, or at least it seemed that way. He was allowing her to train with a sword and talk more openly about Dilandau.

She was relieved that both Allen and Celena received her. Celena looked bright and attentive, much less distant than last time. Gaudy jewels dangled from her ears, and her shirt was a pale bluish-green, covered in ruffles. She’d tucked it into her skirt, and kept adjusting the waistband, fidgeting on the couch and picking at her eyelids and cheeks. When Millerna had first seen her, she’d been barefaced, and looked a lot like Allen. With rouge accentuating her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow on her eyelids, and her blue eyes framed by dark mascara and eyeliner, she looked almost too feminine, as if she were uncomfortable with it. It made Millerna start picking at the little makeup she’d put on that morning.

“So, you’re not just here to keep us company,” Allen said, crossing his ankles and staring sternly at Millerna.

“No, I’m not.” She took a sip of tea, her eyes darting to Celena, then back to Allen. “Peace talks, and other negotiations, are progressing. After Dryden stepped down as regent, I left Eries in charge from time to time, but she can’t do the job alone. I was appointed successor, and I’m fulfilling my duty in my own way.”

“I’m aware. Go on.”

“Anticipating future negotiations with Zaibach, I’ve decided I need to get to know the country beyond the Empire. I’ve talked to Chid”—Allen tensed—“and to Van. They agree that we should extend an olive branch to Zaibach.”

He nodded firmly. “Yes. Trying to fight another war is impossible for Fanelia and Freid especially.” He smiled. “I’m so glad Van realized the value of peace.”

“This is where Celena, and maybe you, come in.” Millerna breathed in, holding the teacup and saucer steady in her lap. “I’m crossing the border into the Zaibach countryside. My primary goal isn’t to help the sick. If I can accomplish it while I’m there, it would be beneficial, since it’s a good way to get a good word in with the common people.”

Allen furrowed his brow, tensing like he was about to speak. Before he could cut in, she continued, “The Empire as we knew it was destroyed. Just like Celena, the common people of Zaibach were the Empire’s victims.” She turned to Celena. “So, I firmly believe that coming along could only benefit you, Celena. I don’t plan to return to the heart of the capital, but by returning to Zaibach. you might be able to learn something about yourself.”

Allen frowned. “Are you sure about this?”

“I kinda like this idea,” Celena said quietly.

Millerna raised her eyebrows. “Go on.”

“I don’t know if I’ll remember much. Things about him…” Allen set a hand on her arm, turning toward her. “Things about my life as him are coming back to me, bits and pieces. I know I won’t ever remember all of it. That’s why…” She set down her cup and saucer and stood up, Allen dropping his hand as she did. “That’s why I want to find out more about myself. I want to learn who I am. So I want to come with you.”

“Celena—” Allen made a noise somewhere between exasperation and concern. “I haven’t given you permission yet.”

Celena groaned, rolling her eyes. “Well, I’m not going to spend three weeks trying to convince you. You don’t have to ask Van. Princess Millerna says she already has his support.”

“He doesn’t know about _this_! He’s only supporting the idea of showing Zaibach mercy. Besides, I wasn’t _going_ to ask Van. The only reason I sent a letter last time was because I was curious if women learned swordplay in other countries.”

“And before that, you scoured the archives in the national library trying to find out if there were any women swordfighters in history or in other countries. Like, did you need proof or something? Or did you think teaching swordsmanship to a woman was really going to be that different?”

“I only—”

“I don’t need explanations!” Celena placed her hands on her hips and turned to face him. “Listen to me.” She paused to clear her throat. “I appreciate the effort. I know you’re trying your best. But I’m not invincible, no matter how much you try to shelter me. One day, you’re just going to have to let things happen to me. I’m not innocent anymore. I’m not the little girl who ran away and disappeared. I’m grown up now.”

Millerna felt a pang in her heart watching the conversation unfolding before her. What Celena had said was the very same she was trying to prove to Eries, to Allen and Dryden, and even to Marlene. She wasn’t a little girl who needed help or protection, not anymore. She was traveling on her own, making decisions on her own. Standing up against the council members who demanded punishment for Zaibach. Showing them that she wasn’t just continuing the former regent’s tendency toward mercy, but establishing her own policies guided by her character and experiences.

Allen’s expression was pained and conflicted, his brow knit in concern. “I know all of that, but still… I just can’t let you go off on your own.”

“I’m an _adult_ ,” Celena said, leaning down slightly. “And the Princess asked me. Not you.”

“ _Celena_!” he said firmly. “Please, don’t speak so brashly. We have company, the Third Princess of _Asturia_ no less!”

“It’s all right,” Millerna said softly. “I sent a letter to Van. He agreed that the trip is a good idea.”

“See?” Celena said, glaring at Allen.

“Also,” Millerna said, “I’m impressed by your independent spirit.”

Celena turned to her. Millerna wasn’t sure whether she was blushing or it was a smudge of rouge. “Thanks. I mean, thank you.”

Allen sighed, burying his forehead in his hand. “Even you…”

“Are you worried for Celena’s safety?”

“It’s not that she doesn’t have the means to defend herself. I’m worried about what might happen when she _is_ thrown into a combat situation.” He lifted his head, looking at Millerna with his sad eyes. “I only agreed to teach her because she was certain she’d be able to figure out who she was. I never envisioned the possibility that she might have to defend herself, because that will always be my duty.”

“Always?” Celena said. “I don’t think so.”

“I…” Allen lowered his head. “No, there’s no use trying to convince you now. You’re as stubborn as I am.” He looked to Millerna again. “Castelo was destroyed. This is my post now. Would you consider allowing me to accompany you?”

“I believe Celena’s already made that decision,” Millerna said. “Besides, I’ll likely have to travel with a guard.”

Allen sighed quietly. “You want time away from me, right, Celena?”

Celena’s expression softened slightly. “If it’s possible.”

“I know. I can’t stop you.”

Eries had said the same to Millerna.

—

She’d had no problem convincing Eries that the trip was important. Eries assigned a Knight Caeli to guard them, and they set off toward the outskirts of Zaibach. The trip would take several days, so they’d stocked the carriage well with provisions for the guard, the driver, and the two women. Millerna had dressed down to her tunic and tights again, and she didn’t notice that Celena had been staring at her outfit the whole time until she said her name to catch her attention. It turned out she wanted to know how and where she could get a pair of pants for herself, since Allen wouldn’t let her borrow his.

The road was flat and wide, which made for a pleasant ride, though not a scenic one. On the second night, Celena challenged the guard to a duel. Though he hesitated because the code forbade fighting women, Millerna waved it off, and Celena unsheathed her sword and clashed blades with him. Allen hadn’t had reservations about training Celena because the code _forbade_ it. It was simply that women had never been _encouraged_ to take up the sword.

The next day, the driver came down with food poisoning, which set them back a day. Millerna checked him for a fever or any aches and pains, but everything about him seemed to indicate he was a healthy middle-aged man, other than what he’d eaten. He must have taken the worst of the lot. She spent the day off reviewing what she’d learned on Zaibach culture and the basic phrases of Zaibach’s language. In the country, she’d met far more people who could only speak Asturian, some with heavy accents. She’d learned some diplomatic phrases as part of her education, but she didn’t get much of a chance to use most of the foreign languages she had learned because the common Gaean language had become so ubiquitous. The sound of Zaibachian didn’t seem to awaken any memories in Celena. It was likely all they had spoken in the Empire was Gaean.

On the fourth day, they crossed the border, where she saw a Basrami flag planted in the remains of a fort. Was the old Zaibach-Basram conflict still alive? The capital was still at a distance, but as they approached it, a small group of houses came into view. Millerna told the driver to head for the houses, and as they disembarked the carriage, she saw people at the window in one of the houses. Walking up to the door with Celena in tow and her guard beside her, she knocked, then folded her hands in her lap, waiting for the response.

A dark-haired man, late middle-age, with a stubbly, light brown face came to the door. “What is it?”

“State visit,” Millerna said. “Third Princess Millerna Aston of the Kingdom of Asturia.”

“Asturia?” The man raised his eyebrows. He closed the door slightly, then yelled in Zaibachian, “Hey, princess is here.”

He opened the door with a smirk, waving her and the others inside. It was a small country house. There was a bit of grime on the edges of the fireplace and the legs of the furniture. The cushions of the sofa and the chairs had softened with age, and a hairline crack ran through the glass of the tabletop, which was coated with a gray film.

“Mind if we invite the neighbors?” the man said.

“Not at all,” Millerna said.

“I’ll be right back, then. By the way, Erik. This is Sasha.” He gestured to the kitchen, where a woman with strawberry blonde hair was shuffling in the cabinets for food and dishes.

Millerna nodded. Then she walked over to the table, stroking the top of it with her fingertip, then looking at it.

“Oh, sorry for that,” Sasha said, with a bit of an accent. “Dirt from the capital. We used to live there for his job. Now that the Empire has disappeared, we are unsure of our future.”

“What was his job?”

“Building streets and houses. His clothes are still covered in filth. I can barely get it out.”

A minute later, two more families entered the house, one or two people bowing. One was a family of lions, the other humans. Someone had brought their own chair, and Sasha spread the chairs out so that everyone had room to sit. After she’d put on the tea and given everyone a teacup and saucer, she sat down, wiping sweat off her brow with a ratty handkerchief.

“All right, Princess,” Erik said, folding his thin arms. “Why come talk to a bunch of country folk? I thought state visits were to the capital.”

“The Emperor’s passed, she wouldn’t have anyone to visit there,” one of the lions piped up.

“They’ve still got ministers and generals and the like,” he replied. “Something special that you needed to come out here?”

“In the war, all the leaders and soldiers of Gaea only saw Zaibach as the Empire,” she said. Looking at Celena next to her, she continued, “In reality, many Zaibachers were human casualties of that war, like Celena. Originally from Asturia, she was experimented on and turned into a soldier for the Empire. And those soldiers who did not receive such cruel treatment also suffered in the military. Gaea’s leaders are currently discussing whether Zaibach should receive any punishment. But—”

“Miss Princess,” one of the human neighbors cut in, a young man with golden eyes and short brown hair. “Apologies for interrupting, but I didn’t want to forget my thoughts. May I tell you about my time in the military?”

Millerna nodded. “Go right ahead.”

“First of all, I deserted. But if you knew how the Empire treats its soldiers, you’d be running away, too. The standards are so high, even in the lowest ranked of the four armies. You’d better become top-notch with a sword to have any hope of being recruited. Training days were long and hard. Probably strained most of my muscles just with my regular routine. Seems like we never got a break. When I think about what we were defending, I hate that I even tried out for the military in the first place.”

“I’m so sorry you went through all of this. What were you defending?”

“Well, the experiments, for one. Experiments on humans and beasts alike. The Empire also wanted to take over all the other countries and make them modern and industrial, too. But only in their capitals, of course.”

“Tons of people helped the Empire build their modern industrial city,” Erik said. “I was one of ’em. Dornkirk came in here years ago and just took over. Said his science and technology made everything better. But the land’s just as barren as when my ancestors were trying to farm it. I don’t think that modern city’s made a single thing better.”

“The main reason to be in the military, or the capital period,” the young man said, “is just so you know where your next meal’s coming from. We’re trying our best to live outside the capital, but most Zaibachers don’t have a choice.”

“How do you survive?” Celena asked.

“Farming,” Erik said.

“We share what we can grow with each other,” a woman from another family said. “And you might not have seen, but we’ve got a farm, too. We’ve had to cross the border to hunt. Lucky no one caught us yet.”

“Are you facing threats from neighboring countries?” Millerna asked.

“Did you see that fort on the way in? Basram invaded a few weeks ago,” a lionman said. “When it happened, we were terrified. Nowhere to go. What if they caught us and made us fight for them, like they’d done to our ancestors? We didn’t want to leave the life we’d made for ourselves.”

“So this is your home, despite everything?” Millerna said. In her peripheral vision, she saw Celena staring intently at everyone.

They all said, “yes,” “oh yeah,” or “of course.” Some nodded enthusiastically, and some smiled proudly.

“We were born on the outskirts,” a lionwoman said, “or we chose to escape life in the capital. So we’ll do everything we can to stay here.”

“So many people live in the capital because they have no choice. It was only because we had each other that we could make it,” an older man said.

“Not like the Empire’s gonna take care of us.”

“Too worried about its research.”

“Damn right.”

Millerna looked over at Celena. She’d found what she expected, but she still had a lot to think about.

—

The neighbors had all pitched in to serve them dinner. It had been meager, so Millerna had made sure everyone else was fed before eating her own meal. They thanked the Zaibachers and returned to the carriage. When night fell, they camped just outside the border underneath a stand of trees. The sky was clear, the moon and Mystic Moon shimmering. Barely had Millerna begun to stargaze when Celena joined her.

“Have you learned anything new?” she said, glancing at Celena.

She shrugged. “Was I supposed to?” She bent one of her knees up, setting her elbow on it. “I guess the one thing I really learned was that I envy you.”

“Really?” Millerna stared at the Mystic Moon. “Why?”

“You’re just so…” She made a noise of exasperation. “You’re so put together and confident, but it’s not even that. It’s that you know what you’re doing, and you’re happy about it. You’ve found a purpose. I just wish I knew what mine was.”

Celena was right. Along the way, talking to Chid and Van and helping country folks, she’d fallen into her role. She hadn’t wanted to do it on Father’s, or even Eries’, terms. She’d found a way to do it on her own terms. And was she happy? She hadn’t thought about the marriage, or the two men, she’d hoped would give her happiness in days. In the end, it wasn’t being _with_ anyone that made her happy. It was finally getting the chance to be on her _own_. To do what she wanted and help the people who needed it. To use her position to help not just her own people, but also the people of other countries.

She wouldn’t be satisfied sitting on the throne and leaving negotiations up to the cabinet. She wanted to see things for herself. Father had been so deeply mired in politics, so out of touch with what was best for Asturia, that he’d just let Zaibach invade Asturia on its way to Freid. Had he even cared? Why had he been so cold, toward her, toward Allen, toward… well, everyone? During the war, she’d begun to realize the type of monarch she wanted to be. She just hadn’t had the chance to start becoming that monarch until now.

“You’ll find it along the way,” she said finally, looking over at Celena. “If you obsess over your purpose, you won’t have any time to enjoy the journey.”

“The journey?”

“I think yours is just beginning. You said you wanted to explore your life beyond Allen, and try and find out what it might be like.”

“But I don’t know anything about what my life is like. I was in Zaibach for so long that I never got a chance to live for myself.”

“But now you’ve been given that chance. You’re no longer beholden to anything or anyone. You don’t have any responsibility. Right now, it’s all up to you. It’s your choice.”

“I’m scared,” she said softly. “Terrified. I don’t know what’s coming next or what I’m going to do.

“At the same time, I also feel excited. Because I don’t know what’s next. What’s going to happen, or who I’m going to become. When I see you living for yourself like that, I feel more confident that I can do the same. That maybe one day, I will discover who I am.”

“Take your time,” Millerna said. _Don’t grow up too fast_ , she didn’t say, because it would be strange to say it to a woman the same age as her.

“Yeah, I will. And when I know for sure, I hope I can show you how I’ve changed. Because you were the one who inspired me.”

“Thank Hitomi.”

“That Mystic Moon girl Allen was—thought he was in love with?”

“If it weren’t for her, I don’t know if I ever would have found the courage to believe in myself and make my own choices.”

—

They returned to the capital a few days later. Allen was blinking back tears of joy at Celena’s safe return; though Celena rolled her eyes, she didn’t push her brother’s overly-tight hug away. Eries escorted Millerna upstairs, where a cup of tea was already waiting for her.

“Father’s getting worse,” Eries said. “I’ve been trying to offload as much of the stress about the Zaibach negotiations as I can. Perspectives on peace are starting to dominate. Even the council members who were the strongest opponents of amnesty are backing off their positions. Hopefully that translates to the international council as well.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I’ve made my own decision regarding Zaibach, but having their support will be invaluable.”

“So you’ve decided to show them mercy?”

“I’ve decided there needs to be a plan.” She took a sip of her tea. “The capital, the heart of the Empire itself, was built for war. In peacetime, there’s no need to make weapons and Guymelefs. If there is any chance Zaibach’s advanced technology can be used to benefit its people and the people of Gaea, the capital will remain standing. Otherwise, it will be demolished.”

“Demolished? What will replace it?”

“The Zaibachers have struggled with barren land for years, but having seen how the poorest live, I’m confident they’ll be able to find some fertility in the land. Maybe that advanced technology can help them with that. But we’ll have to get in touch with the people in charge of that technology.”

“So you do not intend to make them pay damages.”

Millerna shook her head. “The Empire, and the Zaibachers, will only resent us if we make them pay. Now is the time to show forgiveness and mercy toward them. The Zaibachers are people, after all. They never asked to be caught up in the Empire’s ambitions.”

“Many will balk at the idea of trusting Zaibach after that war.”

“I’m well aware. Negotiations don’t have to begin right away. Freid and Fanelia are still deep in the rebuilding effort. They can’t afford another war. And there are other countries that were part of the alliance whose people suffered during the war. I’ve yet to contact the leaders of those countries to solicit their opinions, though I know some embassies of the international council were very vocal about making the Empire pay damages.”

Eries sighed, taking a sip of her tea. “You’ve already put a lot of thought into this. But have you considered your perspective might be too optimistic?”

“It may be. But Asturia is a powerful country. What I say and do as Third Princess matters, not just to the people of Asturia and the leaders of Gaea, but to all of the people of Gaea. I know what my responsibility is now. And until the situation with Zaibach is resolved, I’m determined to see it through to the end.”

“You’ve learned and grown so much.” Eries paused. “To be perfectly honest, I… thought you’d be more like Marlene. That you’d be satisfied letting someone else rule, whether it was me, Father, or your husband.”

“Absolutely not,” Millerna said, not bothering to hide her indignance. “I care about Asturia’s future, and the future of everyone who lives on Gaea.” She frowned slightly. “I know that I was selfish. I was just like Marlene. I wanted freedom of the duty I’d been born into…” She paused, feeling her face burn with shame. “I thought I would find happiness with someone I loved, just like she’d sought her own freedom. Now I’ve found a way to carry out that duty and still be happy in my position.”

“I know. I was wrong to scold you. Millerna, I’m sorry.”

Millerna looked up from her tea. Eries was staring into her teacup, clutching it with both hands.

“It was wrong of me to scold you for wanting your independence and freedom when both I and Marlene desired the same. Marlene accepted her duty and agreed to the marriage with Duke Freid. But I never gave up. I had seen Marlene fall in love with Allen, and the way it had torn her up inside. I resented him for a long time, not for the sin he had committed against Asturia and Freid, but for what he had made my sister feel.

“Being with Allen gave Marlene a taste of freedom. It was her last act of rebellion before she had to accept her duty. I resolved to never calmly accept my duty, so I continued to resist. Father would propose arrangement after arrangement. I refused each one. Finally, after Marlene’s death, he gave up arranging a marriage for me and chose you as his heir instead.

“I was consumed by regret. Had I really made the right choice? And in spite of my attempt at resistance, I was still serving Asturia. I was giving advice and counsel, and I was consulted on political decisions. I never found a love I wanted to run away with. Against all odds, my one true love had become my country. Though I was born to a bloodline I had no chance of escaping, born to a destiny my sister had set the example of resisting, I was powerless, in the end, to resist the call of service.

“I’m sorry, Millerna. I wanted you to understand what I had come to understand, and I feared that what had happened to Marlene would happen to you. But now I see how wrong I was. I should have trusted that you would find your own path and grow into your role. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Millerna reached across the table and gripped her sister’s wrist. Eries flinched and looked up at her.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Millerna said. “You were worried about me. Not because I was the heir, but because I was your sister. You didn’t want me to go through the same pain that Marlene went through.

“But it wasn’t quite the same. I didn’t love Allen. I wanted to be free… or I thought I did. I thought freedom would make me happy. I thought he would make me happy. And after that failed, I thought I could depend on Dryden. But all of that was wrong. I’m happiest on my own. Just like you.

“I was trying…” She paused to think for a moment. “I was trying to find myself. Understand myself. And I know my journey’s not finished yet. I know what kind of ruler I want to be now, but I’m still working on understanding what kind of person I want to be, because I don’t know where the future will take me. And somehow…” She sighed. “I’m okay with being uncertain if I’ll be happy. I’m ready to listen to my people. I’m ready to make sacrifices. And I’m ready to move forward.”

“Oh, Millerna…” Eries smiled, her eyes glistening. “Words can hardly express how proud I am of how much you’ve learned.” Pushing Millerna’s hand away, she got up from the table and walked toward the window. “This still feels like only the beginning,” she said.

Millerna knew it was. It was the vague purple sunlight of early dawn. It would intensify into white mid-morning and blaze to an orange and pink conclusion in the late afternoon. Everything was opening to her: the whole world and all its possibilities. Though she no longer could ask Hitomi to tell the future, she now knew what Hitomi had been trying to show her when she’d refused that reading: that her future should be hers and hers alone, and she shouldn’t rely on others to determine or predict her happiness. Her happiness was her own: her life was her own. It was no grand revelation. It was something she’d always known, ever since the pages of Marlene’s journal had shocked her back to reality, and ever since she’d made the decision to rule. Her future was as much a mystery as the fate of the country she’d grown up in and learned to love.


End file.
